‘I’ll read it to you. This week Hollywood welcomes Miss Laetitia Lane, star of London’s West End stage. Miss Lane arrived in style on the Queen Mary. She is contracted to Mammoth Productions to make three motion pictures. Her manager, Mr Aubrey St James – but it’s definitely Major Aubrey; there’s a photograph of them both – who accompanies her said Miss Lane was delighted to be in America. It’s been her lifelong ambition to see our great country. More pictures on page... etcetera, etcetera. Well! I always thought Laetitia Lane wouldn’t be kept down for long. I wonder what the two of them are really up to in America.’
‘More than meets the eye maybe. I doubt we’ll ever know.’
‘Will you be coming home for lunch today, dear?’
De Silva scooped up the last of the string hoppers on his plate and wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘I intended to, will you be in?’
‘No, Kuveni and I are going to town to see about ordering her wedding sari. You don’t mind, do you? I want her to have something special. Her father and brother have offered what they can afford and, if you remember, we talked about making up the rest.’
‘Of course I don’t mind.’
‘And we’re meeting Sergeant Prasanna’s mother, so I’ll leave instructions with Cook to have something ready for you.’
‘Thank you.’ He grinned. ‘I wish you a successful trip. I hope Mrs Prasanna won’t try to take charge too much.’
Jane sniffed. ‘Oh, I think Kuveni and I can handle Mrs Prasanna. She’s really a very nice woman when one gets to know her. She’s very keen to help with the preparations for the wedding too. Kuveni may not have been the daughter-in-law she had in mind, but she seems to have accepted the situation. Better than losing her son, and luckily she and Kuveni already get on rather well.’
‘Good. That must be a weight off Prasanna’s mind.’
‘I’m sure it is, and I doubt many people will dare risk his mother’s wrath by criticising his choice.’ She sighed. ‘But glad as I am that everything has turned out for the best, I’ll miss Kuveni.’
He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I will too,’ he said and meant it. With her kind heart and graceful charm, the girl had brought sunshine into the house. It had been a taste of what might have been… But no, he wouldn’t dwell on that.
‘Let’s hope she visits us often,’ he said briskly. ‘Now, I should be on my way. Enjoy your shopping trip. Don’t come back too tired out. I have a plan for this evening.’
Jane gave him a puzzled frown. ‘I don’t think there’s anything on at the Casino or a band at the dance hall. What do you have in mind?’
He stood up and tapped the side of his nose. ‘You’ll have to wait and see. It’s a surprise.’
At the station, he went into his office and hauled out the large, unwieldy box that sat on the floor of the big store cupboard. It had arrived from England only yesterday, too late for their anniversary unfortunately, but it could be an extra gift.
How convenient that Jane would be out today. Slitting the tapes that bound it, he lifted the flaps and peered inside. It didn’t look too complicated and fortunately there were some instructions. He’d take it home at the end of the morning and set it up in the room next to the dining room. There was very little furniture there and they rarely used it.
Later, at Sunnybank, a servant hurried out to help as he manhandled the box out of the Morris’s passenger seat. When they had carried it to the room and set it down on the low chest by the window, he took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. Even though the ill effects of his encounter with Claybourne and Randall had, thankfully, worn off, he wasn’t as fit as he would like to be. Still, perhaps this box held the answer.
‘Not a word of this to your mistress,’ he told the servant. ‘It’s to be a surprise.’
‘Yes, master.’
De Silva pulled back the flaps of the box and took out the brass horn then he and the servant lifted out the mahogany box containing the mechanism and the turntable. Before long, the gramophone was wound up and ready to test out. He removed the case containing the records he had ordered from its separate compartment in the box, chose one and put it on the turntable. The servant’s eyes widened as music emerged from the brass horn. They listened for a few moments then de Silva removed the needle and closed the lid. He gestured to the table and chairs. ‘All we need to do now is move these back to the wall to make space in the middle of the room.’
A bit of huffing and puffing and it was done. ‘Excellent,’ said de Silva. ‘All ready to go. But remember – not a word.’
As he ate a solitary lunch on the verandah, he thought of the records he’d chosen. Love: it was the theme of most songs. Love in all its many guises. Where would songwriters be without it? Indeed, where would the human race be? Songs, novels, films – to say nothing of the real thing. There was love that brought reconciliation like Prasanna and Kuveni’s; doomed love like Matthew Claybourne’s and Ralph Wynne-Talbot’s; destructive love like the tragic Helen’s, and selfish love like Johnny Randall’s – a close cousin of greed and egotism that left a bitter legacy. Then there was the quiet, undramatic kind of love, the kind that acted as the bedrock of so many lives: the love between parents and children, and between husbands and wives.
Lunch eaten, he sat and drank his coffee, watching a pair of bee-eaters flit about in the branches of the tulip tree nearby. The one he assumed was the male from the extra brightness of its green and blue plumage paused on a branch to sing, its dark eyes sharp and its orange bib swelling with the effort of the performance. Love again – even birds and animals weren’t immune to it.
There was nothing urgent waiting for him at the station. A good day to take the afternoon off. He’d finished his latest book and he wasn’t in the mood for starting a new one. The female bee-eater flew away, pursued by the male. The garden drowsed in the heat. Perhaps he’d do the same.
**
‘Shanti?’
He woke with a start to see Jane standing in the doorway, a teasing smile on her face.
‘What time is it?’
‘Nearly four. I guessed I might find you here. You’ll be rivalling Constable Nadar soon.’
‘Just resting my eyes. How did the shopping trip go?’
‘Very well. We’ve chosen some beautiful silk for the sari. Kuveni will look a picture.’
‘Has she come back with you?’
‘No, she’s stayed in town. Prasanna’s mother insisted they both have a meal with her so Prasanna will bring her home in a rickshaw later. She asked if I would stay but I said I needed to get back to you. It’s a family occasion and I didn’t want to impose. Anyway, I’m dying to know what this surprise is.’
He got up. ‘I’ll satisfy your curiosity but you must close your eyes first.’
Jane’s brow wrinkled. ‘You’re being very mysterious. What’s this all about?’
‘You’ll soon find out. Give me your hand.’
He led her to the room beside the dining room and opened the door.
‘Can I look yet?’
‘Just a moment longer.’ He let go of her hand. ‘Stay there and don’t move.’
He crossed to the gramophone and lifted the lid then pulled the arm back gently until it clicked and the turntable started to revolve. He placed the needle in the groove of the record and took a breath. ‘You can open your eyes now.’
Jane clapped her hands. ‘A gramophone! What a lovely surprise. How did you know I wanted one?’
‘I guessed. Now we can dance whenever we like.’
She laughed. ‘Shanti, dear, it’s only teatime, and I’m not dressed for dancing.’
‘What does that matter?’
The sound of the strings, woodwind and brass of the BBC Dance Orchestra, under the baton of Henry Hall, filled the room.
‘Shall we?’
‘With pleasure, kind sir.’ She stepped into his arms.
As the music swelled, he spun her round.
‘Shanti, not so fast! You’ll make
me giddy! And you must count. We’re out of time.’
‘But I am counting. It’s just the music that is too slow.’
Jane rolled her eyes. ‘And mind the furniture.’
‘The furniture is perfectly safe and now who is not concentrating?’ He pulled her closer and they both started to laugh as Les Allen began to croon.
Love is the Sweetest Thing…
He couldn’t have put it better himself.
****
Thank you for reading this book, I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood. If you have a few moments to put a review on Amazon or Goodreads, even if it’s only a couple of lines, I’d be most grateful. I love to hear from readers too, so please do visit my blog sometime and leave your comments.
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Other Books by Harriet Steel
Trouble in Nuala
The Inspector de Silva Mysteries #1
When Inspector Shanti de Silva moves with his English wife, Jane, to a new post in the sleepy hill town of Nuala, he anticipates a more restful life than police work in the big city entails. However an arrogant plantation owner with a lonely wife, a crusading lawyer, and a death in suspicious circumstances present him with a riddle that he will need all his experience to solve.
Set on the exotic island of Ceylon in the 1930s, Trouble in Nuala is an entertaining and relaxing mystery spiced with humour and a colourful cast of characters.
Becoming Lola
The true story of how Eliza Gilbert, the daughter of an obscure Ensign in the British Army and his cold Irish wife, became the nineteenth century’s most notorious adventuress, Lola Montez.
“Throughout Becoming Lola I kept having to remind myself that the story was based on historical fact. It is a fascinating journey following a woman’s single-minded determination to get the very best for herself at all costs.” Historical Novel Society
“A fascinating read. Lola was such a gutsy character, and Harriet Steel has captured her times and adventures very vividly. It's a must read if you like wild women and strange adventures.” Beth Webb, Author of the Star Dancer trilogy.
Salvation
It is 1586, plagued by religious strife at home and with the Royal Treasury almost exhausted, England holds her breath. When will Philip of Spain launch his Armada?
In this world of suspicion and fear, three people pursue their own struggles for happiness and salvation.
When an enemy threatens to reveal his illicit affair with a married woman, young lawyer’s clerk, Tom Goodluck, is forced to leave his old life behind him. An aspiring playwright, for a while his future in the burgeoning world of Elizabethan theatre looks bright but then events take an unexpected turn that threatens his very existence. His mentor and friend, theatre manager Alexandre Lamotte, comes to his rescue but Lamotte’s past hides tragedy and a dark secret. In trying to save Tom, he puts everything he has achieved at risk. Meanwhile Tom’s lover, Meg, is forced to set out on a path that will test her mettle to the limit.
City of Dreams
After a whirlwind courtship and marriage to dashing Frenchman Emile Daubigny, Anna, the teenage daughter of a Russian furrier, moves to Paris with her new husband, looking forward to a life of gaiety, love and comfortable affluence.
Married life and the social scene in the most fashionable city on earth is everything Anna hoped it would be, but when Emile vanishes without trace and she is evicted, Anna is forced to discover the city’s poverty-stricken dark side of harsh streets and squalid tenements, where the temptation for a penniless young lady to become a kept woman is overwhelming.
To make matters worse, war with Prussia looms and Anna and the city she loves will both struggle to survive.
Following the Dream
The sequel to City of Dreams continues Anna’s story in the vibrant city of Paris.
Dancing and Other Stories
Profits from this collection of short stories will be donated to WaterAid, a charity working to bring clean water and sanitation to villages in the Third World. The collection takes a light-hearted look at some of the big issues in life: love, hate, friendship, jealousy, revenge and biscuits. It includes the prize-winning story, Dryad, co-authored with bestselling author, Joanne Harris for the BBC’s National Competition, End of Story.
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
Characters who appear regularly in the Inspector de Silva Mysteries.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Other Books by Harriet Steel
Dark Clouds Over Nuala (The Inspector de Silva Mysteries Book 2) Page 19